Hakuoki Stories
by TheaBlackthorn
Summary: Pairing's: Various


Title: Acknowledgement

Series: Hakuoki

Pairing: Hijikata/Saitou

Prompt: **Prompt 20 -**I won't let you die

Note: For the Shisenlove Drabble Meme

Warnings: Some blood and death mentioned (not character death)

Condensation rose in thin wisps from the puddles of blood on the floor, residual body heat mixing with the cold crisp air of early morning causing the hazy vapours. There were bodies strewn around them in a loose circle, eyes fixed open in eternal rest. There had been twenty men ready and waiting in ambush, hidden in alleyways and on rooftops along their route back to the compound after their night patrol.

Saitou berated himself silently, stomach souring as he looked at the detritus that had tried to assassinate them. He had known that the patrols should be varying their routes, it was too easy to predict where and when they would be in certain places. He should have said something to Hijikata-san about it, but he hadn't and this was the price they'd paid for his silence.

Saitou flicked his left wrist and the blood that dripped in a steady tap-tap in the puddle at his feet flew from the length of his blade, splattering across the ground in an arc. The katana was slipped with a whispery glide back into its saya at his right hip and Saitou clenched the tsuke and saya for a moment or two, knuckles whitening at the strength of his grip, sharp eyes roaming shadowed alleyway's, rooftops and open corner's searching for any lingering assailant's.

He found none and his grip eased, thumb rubbing the tsuba as his left hand fell to his side. And then he felt it, the briefest press of warmth along his back. The soft brush of hair prickling the exposed skin at the edge of haori collar, he felt the weight of a head and saw the hard knot of a ponytail from the corner of his eye before they slid shut absorbing a moment of weakness few ever got to see.

Saitou didn't turn to look back at the man behind him, knew that there would not be a scratch on that milky pale skin that he often admired from a distance. Though he didn't doubt that Hijikata-san's bright blue and white uniform, and his own, were coated with blood and gore. The copper of blood and the musk of death didn't faze him any longer and yet he wished to clean the residue from the man who stood behind him – Hijikata-san should not have had to sully his blade.

Saitou straightened and turned to begin the long walk back to the barracks, Hijikata-san beside him not a step in front as he should have been. It was another silent acknowledgement of skill, of pride and of thanks that Saitou treasured more than any word's. In their life words were few and thought they held weight, action's spoke far louder. Saitou respected the silent man, Hijikata-san's unwavering devotion to duty, honour and above all else loyalty. The warm press of Hijikata-san's back was an acknowledgement of strength; reliance and thanks that made something tighten with emotion inside him.

Saitou knew Hijikata-san was too proud to voice such sentiments and Saitou would never expect them from him – those few second's of vulnerable warmth seeping through thick cotton were enough. Had always been enough – he would always have this man's back. He had the utmost respect for Hijikata-san, but it wasn't the only thing he felt for the second-in-command of the Shinsengumi. There was deep seated admiration, loyalty and an emotion far deeper, needier that Saitou refused to acknowledge.

Saitou remembered the day this man had introduced him into the Shinsengumi, the day he had found a place to temper his blood lust. The day salvation had walked up to him and asked him, "Would you lay down your life for a cause?"

They had fought with ferocious zeal and in the end they'd both ended up bloody, but he had been on his knees, hands braced on his by his sword as his body wavered, blood seeping into the earth, "I would." The silent acknowledgement of just who he would die for was left unsaid and yet in that moment Saitou believed that Hijikata-san had known it to.

"Good."

It had been so simple and now it was more.

Later in the day Saitou sat on the wraparound porch, jasmine tea steaming lightly at his side, thought's miles away and yet close. He heard soft footstep's move across the well worn wooden boards, but didn't turn to look, the gait and weight of step as familiar as breath. Saitou felt pressure dip the wooden board's at his back before familiar warmth settled behind him. Saitou could feel the barest pressure as Hijikata-san leant back but didn't let his weight press against him and, for the first time, Saitou eased back to feel Hijikata's broad back.

There were no words – the crickets chirped softly, the breeze eased through the long grass and the faint snick and thwap of sword practice echoed around the yard.

Translations:

Tsuka – Handle of a katana

Tsuba – The Guard of a katana.

Saya – The Sheath for a katana.


End file.
